My Heart Stood Still by Lynn Kurland (best book club books of all time .TXT) 📕

It would be a comfort indeed.

Iolanthe looked at Thomas's sister and found that she was merely waiting patiently, as if she had all the time in the world and nothing better to do with it than wait for Iolanthe to come to a decision.

She took a deep breath.

"I loved him," she began, "almost from the moment I laid eyes on him."

"Did you?" Megan asked gently.

"'Tis worse than that," Iolanthe admitted. "You see, I knew him."

Megan blinked. "You did? How? He's never been here before."

"It wasn't as if I'd seen him before. But in my youth, when I was trapped on my father's land with no hope of escape, I dreamed of a man who would come to rescue me. I lived each day with a hope that this would be the day he would come. That my life would begin in earnest when he freed me from that wolf's den I called home." She looked at Megan. "I know it sounds impossible, but it was of Thomas I dreamed."

Megan's eyes widened, but she looked only interested, not disbelieving. "So you saw him, recognized him, and then what?"

Iolanthe took a deep breath and recounted the events from there. She left out no detail, however slight. And all through the telling of the tale, Megan listened with a rapt expression. Iolanthe finished by telling her of the morning with the painter and how badly it had ended by her fleeing and Thomas leaving for New York.

"The painter is still at the inn," Megan said. "He's almost finished with your portrait. I didn't realize he was in the conservatory off the back of the house, though I suppose that's only logical because of the light there. I think if he hadn't been so close to being done, he would have thrown something at me for interrupting. As it was, he was just sitting there looking at you, falling in love."

"With me?" Iolanthe asked with a half laugh.

"You should see the painting."

"Then he has embellished."

"He hasn't. Not a stroke." Megan looked at her calculatingly. "What were you looking at when you were sitting for him—or should I ask whom?"

"What do you think?"

Megan laughed. "Well, it shows. Thomas will be ecstatic when he sees it."

"If he returns." Iolanthe looked out the window and sighed. "I couldn't blame him if he chooses to stay in his city. There isn't anything for him here."

"What about you? Aren't you here?"

"And what have I to offer him? Children? Warmth in his bed at night? Growing old together?" Iolanthe was on her feet pacing before the idea to do so entered her mind. "What kind of life is this? Trapped in this castle for the rest of his days?"

"You can still give him love," Megan protested. "You could travel with him. There is a world full of things you could share if you thought about it creatively. You could spend half a lifetime reading together, and that would be enough."

Iolanthe stopped in the middle of the chamber and bowed her head. "I am ignorant and unlearned," she said quietly. "Mark my words, sister. He will grow weary of me and leave."

"It sounds to me as if you've given up already."

"And just what else am I to do?"

"Fight for him!" Megan sat up and looked at her earnestly. "If you want him, if you want a life together, then fight for it. I'll tell you something about not giving up. Before I came to England, my life stank. I got fired from every job I'd ever had. My boyfriends were all creeps and dumped me regularly. Thomas had asked me to come over to look at your castle, and I knew that was just a pity job to keep me busy. I almost didn't come. I was ready to give up."

"And then?"

"And then I decided I would try one more time. I came over, met Gideon, and fell in love. And none of that would have happened if I hadn't given life one more chance to be good. And I also let Thomas do something for me I didn't have the means to do for myself. If I hadn't told him yes, where would I be?"

Iolanthe cast herself down into her chair.

"So am I to hope that Thomas will solve all the ills in my life?" she asked wearily.

"You could give him the chance."

"To what end?"

Megan smiled gravely. "So that you're both happy."

"But will we be?"

"Only you can answer that. But," she added, "I don't think you should decide that for Thomas."

"He deserves more."

"Let him be the judge."

"Could you love a ghost?"

Megan looked at her in silence for a moment or two. "I can't answer that. But I am not my brother either." She smiled. "I can't tell you what he wants; only he can. But I can tell you that what he tells you is the truth. He doesn't lie."

"So he said."

"Then believe him. And do your part. What Thomas can't fix, you can."

Iolanthe chewed on that for a time. Then she looked at Megan. "I suppose it would serve me to learn a little about the present day."

Megan smiled dryly. "It might. I imagine that locked door downstairs is hiding Thomas's business gear. He's got a computer, hasn't he?"

"Aye."

"Then use it. Use it to learn what you think you don't know. You'll have something to talk to him about when he gets home."

"I hardly know where to start."

"You start by getting out of this beautiful hiding place Thomas has built you. Let's walk down to the village and shop. I know there's not much there, but we'll make do." She bounced up out of her chair. "It'll be fun."

Iolanthe rose more slowly. "But what will the villagers think?"

"They'll think you're gorgeous unless you walk through a door and scare the hell out of them. Just be casual."

Iolanthe looked down at her dress. "But my clothes—"

"Change."

There was that word again. She wondered if she would ever hear it without it fair knocking her to her